Come a Little Closer (Baby, It's Cold Outside)
by amagicalship
Summary: Emma and Killian go on a ski trip with their friends, and everyone is coupled up besides them. When the cabin they rented doesn't turn out as advertised, they end up having to share a bedroom. Emma's not really interested in getting closer to her hot roommate, but she's so cold she may not have a choice.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a birthday fic for my lovely friend escapistfiction317704. I'm going to split it into two parts because it got really really long!

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"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Regina deadpanned, glaring at Emma before looking up at the very old, very unappealing cabin in front of them, the same way everyone else was doing, mouths agape. Regina always did have a way of voicing what everyone else was too polite to say out loud. The dark wood house with creepy, frosted-over windows was covered in a fresh layer of snow, jagged icicles hanging from the eaves doing nothing to improve its somewhat decrepit-looking appearance. _Well, crap._

"I'm sure it's lovely inside!" Mary Margaret chirped brightly, smiling hopefully at everyone. "And you said it has a hot tub, so there's that, right Emma?"

Emma winced as a wave of apprehension washed over her and combined with the guilt she was already feeling, since she had been responsible for booking the cabin for their group ski trip and apparently had completely blown it.

"Guys, I'm really, _really_ sorry," Emma said, grimacing. "Let's get inside and get warmed up, and I'll call the rental agency and see if anything else is available." It was already almost dinnertime, the daylight waning into a soft purple glow, and the temperature was dropping quickly.

The guys, who were carrying the suitcases and duffle bags, all exchanged worried glances before filing in line behind the ladies as they crowded around the door. Emma pressed the code she had been given into the combo box and it popped open, revealing the housekey. Inserting it into the lock, she held her breath and prayed silently that it was better inside than it looked from the outside.

The door creaked loudly as it opened, as if no one had been inside for ages, or worse - that the place was haunted. It was dark inside and smelled musty, but as they all crowded inside the entryway, flicking on the lights and looking around, a collective sigh of relief escaped everyone's lips. The inside was clean and tidy at least, decorated quaintly with antique skis and vintage mountain prints hanging on the walls. In the corner of the adjoining living room there was the giant stone fireplace that had been featured in the online listing, a large bearskin rug lying in front of it.

"It's not all bad," David said, dropping his suitcase. "If you like that vintage cabin sort of thing, than this is definitely it."

"I wonder if there are any old books!" Belle exclaimed, looking hopeful.

"I think it's quite charming," Robin added, earning him a very skeptical look from Regina.

"Works for me," Killian added, smiling reassuringly at Emma. He brushed past her as he made his way further into the house and she felt instant nervous energy coursing through her at the brief contact of his body against hers. "As long as the heat works, it'll do nicely."

Emma bristled at his attempt to console her. Killian Jones, the only single male in their little company and unarguably one of the hottest men alive, was irritating as sin. Or sinfully irritating. Either way, she didn't want anything to do with him, and she wished he would just stop it already with the suave compliments and gentlemanly overtures. She thought she had made it clear a long time ago that she was not interested, but the man didn't seem to take a hint, or care that she continually rebuffed him. Perhaps he just liked a challenge, but she suddenly felt the need to remind him that she was one challenge he would never overcome.

Averting her eyes from his attractive, scruffy face and soulful blue eyes, she dug in her purse for her cell phone. "Are you guys sure? I can call the rental agency, see if they can get us moved somewhere close by."

"Emma, it's fine, really. We're just here for the weekend, we can make the best of it," Mary Margaret said, placing her hand on her shoulder. "Let me find the thermostat and get the heat cranked up."

"Oi! Where's the luggage go?" Will asked, banging in through the door behind them.

Emma pulled up the rental agency's site on her phone as she addressed the group. "According to the listing, there should be 3 queen bedrooms on the first floor and two single rooms upstairs," she said, looking up towards the second floor landing.

Regina, dressed impeccably in fur-trimmed down and expensive snow boots, turned sharply down the hallway, probably intending to snag the master bedroom before anyone else could argue - _as if they would._ The other two couples followed suit, dragging their luggage behind them and leaving her and Killian behind.

"Shall we, love?" Killian asked with a perfectly arched brow, gesturing in the direction of the stairs as he hoisted his bag over his shoulder. Even with his usual leather jacket replaced with a sleek back parka, he was still incredibly attractive, a navy blue scarf playing off his eyes and deepening the color. Her face turned into a frown - she didn't like what he seemed to be implying.

"Oh, brother," Emma groaned under her breath, picking up her own bag and making her way quickly towards the stairs and bounding up them, not bothering to see if he was following her. "It's not like we're going to be rooming _together_ ," she emphasized carefully, stopping short at the top of the stairs and turning on the lights. There was no door, only an open loft in front of her with the A-frame roof arching to a point in the middle of the room. Inside were two twin-sized beds clothed in matching plaid quilts, along with an oversized bean bag chair, an ancient picture tube TV on a stand, and a floor lamp in the shape of a tree with wooden branches. "No," she let out breathlessly.

"What is- Oh," Killian said, stopping next to her and looking around in bewilderment.

"The listing said two single _rooms_ , I swear it did," she said, looking frantically at the information on her phone to clarify. Reading through the bed descriptions, she saw that it said, "Two singles upstairs," no mention of whether they were in separate rooms or not. Obviously she had glossed over that part in her haste to read through all of the details. "Shit."

Killian nudged her shoulder with his own, clearing enjoying this little turn of events. "'Salright, Swan. You and I are both adults, we can handle sharing a bedroom for the weekend, don't you think?" He looked _way_ too pleased with himself, and suddenly she wanted to call the listing agency, if only to fix her own personal version of hell. She _cannot_ share a bedroom with this man. Can. Not.

She and Killian had known each other for years now, as they were both part of the same group of friends who had come together in one capacity or another. It was no secret that he had been interested in dating her, as Mary Margaret was all too happy to pass along when they first met through David. But she had been in a relationship with Neal, and then Walsh, and meanwhile Killian had dated Milah and Ariel. They had never both been single at the same time, until now. Somehow that, combined with the fact that he was looking at her _that_ _way_ right now was turning her stomach inside out and making her want to run from the premises, freezing temperatures be damned.

Swallowing thickly, she faced him with as blank of an expression as she could muster. "Totally. Should be fine." She smiled thinly at him, moving into the room. Maybe she should be glad it didn't have a door, it's not like he was going to try anything when someone might hear them.

"Do you have a bed preference?" Killian asked, and Emma's face burned, as if he somehow knew exactly what naughty little thoughts had been drifting through her mind.

"What? Oh, this one's good," she said awkwardly, moving to the farthest bed, the one closest to the windows. Maybe if she could see the beautiful wintry forest scene outside, it would distract her from the extremely hot British male she was trapped with on the inside.

When she dropped her bag and turned around, Killian was grinning at her, looking her over appreciatively as he loosened his scarf and dropped it on the bed with his coat. She was wearing several layers of clothing, but she still felt completely exposed under his penetrating gaze. The flush moved to her chest now, and she was certain pretty soon every inch of her exposed skin would be bright red. She tucked her hands in the back pockets of her jeans nervously.

"Not to worry, love, I won't bite," he said, putting his cell phone and a few other items on the small dresser in between the beds. "Unless you ask me to," he added, winking at her, earning him an eye roll in response.

"Please, can you just...not?" she pleaded with him in annoyance, but that only made his grin wider.

"What?" he asked, slowly stalking towards her, in that way he made a habit of doing, leading with his hips. "Can't handle a little _teasing_ , Swan?" he asked, running the tip of his tongue playfully between his teeth. Emma swore to herself when she realized he had caught her staring at his mouth, his smile growing even brighter if that were possible.

She walked right up to him, her eyes flicking to the dark swath of chest hair that was peeking out of his unbuttoned shirt, pleased when she noticed his eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Oh, Jones," she said, licking her lips slowly and watching as his breath hitched, his pupils darkening. "I'm pretty sure _you're_ the one who couldn't handle it," she said, emphasizing her words with a pat to his chest.

His startled expression turned to a lascivious grin as his eyes flicked down to where her palm was still resting next to his heart, and it was suddenly _way_ too hot in the room for her comfort. Biting her lip and returning her hand to her back pocket, she stepped back, creating some much-needed space in between them, though the air remained thick with tension.

"I'm gonna go check on the others, make sure their bedrooms are OK," she said, not waiting for a response as she ducked her head and quickly made her way past him. When she got to the landing, she turned back and found that he was still standing in the exact same spot, though he had turned his head over his shoulder to watch her as she left.

Emma knew things might be a little tense between them, but she didn't anticipate having to be quite so... _close_ all weekend. She was hoping she could keep some distance between them, pretend like they were just a part of the group and not the only two singles, with the added pressure of well-meaning but pushy friends who constantly barraged her with the argument that they'd be "so perfect together!" _Blech_. She'd heard that one before. It was exactly what Belle had said when she'd introduced her to Walsh, and that relationship had turned out to be a complete bust. _Ugh_ , she was so done with men right now. Especially the seemingly "perfect" kind.

Of course, she knew that Killian never really claimed to be perfect, had heard all about his past and how he'd lost his entire family over the years until he was eventually alone - just like her. It was the part Mary Margaret liked to emphasize when she argued a case for their compatibility time and time again. But he was still annoyingly charming and successful, not to mention jaw-droppingly attractive. At least she knew he had a strong penchant for rum and a tendency to get wrapped up in gambling - something he only did when they went down to Atlantic City - but nevertheless, a flaw that she could cling to if she ever needed convincing that he was not the perfect man for her, something she seemed to find herself needing a lot of lately.

Downstairs, she found Will and Belle unpacking in one of the bedrooms, and they reported that it was a bit small but comfortable enough for them. Mary Margaret was busy laying out her clothes on the bed. "This is great, really. I think the cabin is super cute and cozy." She smiled at her warmly. Emma could see that the room was again small, but it had a closet and a dresser, and what appeared to be a nice view out the window, looking out towards the front of the house.

"I'm relieved to hear that," Emma said, letting out a heavy sigh as she leaned against the doorframe. She wasn't about to mention to Mary Margaret what the situation was upstairs, knowing it would only lead to excitement and goading. Besides, she knew realistically that their chances of getting moved to another cabin were slim at best. "I would be happy to call the rental agency, but I'm not sure what else would be available over a holiday weekend. Where's David?" she asked, suddenly noting his absence.

"He went out to the car to get some more stuff," Mary Margaret told her. David was always on top of things, which made him handy to have around.

"OK, well, I had better check with the queen. You know if Regina's not happy then no one else will be," she said with an eye roll, sharing a chuckle with her friend.

Turning at the bend in the hallway, she made her way to what she assumed must be the master bedroom, and knocked at the door, even though it was already open.

"Yes?" Regina called, and Emma walked inside. She wasn't afraid of Regina, not really, they were friends. It's just that the woman had the unnerving ability to make everyone feel as though they should be bowing down before her and begging her mercy.

"Hey Regina. I was just checking to make sure everyone is OK with their rooms," she notified her as she entered the large, most elegantly furnished room in the house. A huge four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room, and there was an adjoining bathroom, this one with its own bathtub. From the windows, she could see a lovely view of the snow-covered mountainside, and there was even a private door out to the deck where the hot tub was located. Emma had to hold her tongue to keep the groan from coming out, miffed as she was with her own circumstances.

Regina sniffed, running her fingers over the top of the dresser and checking for dust. "Well, it's certainly not the Ritz Carlton, but I suppose it will do," she said, and Emma smirked.

Robin caught her eye and smiled back at her, shaking his head softly. "It'll do nicely, Emma, and we're very grateful that you were able to find us a place on such short notice." Robin was always such a sweetheart, she sometimes wondered how in the world he put up with Regina, though she knew he seemed to bring out the best in her.

"I guess I'm the only one who's unsatisfied, but that's fine. I can live with it," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"What do you mean?" Regina asked, her expression turning concerned.

"Oh, it's just that I thought the listing said there were two single _bedrooms_ upstairs, but there's just two single _beds_ in one room."

"Oh?" Regina asked, a smug smirk splitting her face as she raised a cool eyebrow. "You mean you and Killian...?" She waved her hand in the air.

"Yeah, we have to sleep in the same room," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Nothing you can't handle," Regina said, still smiling, as she shrugged a shoulder. She and Robin exchanged a look and Emma fought the urge to groan again.

"Right, well, I'll let you two settle in, I've still got some stuff to get from the car." She turned away from their shared smug expressions before they could start teasing her and headed back out to the main entryway. She passed David on the way to the front door, his arms full of kitchen items as he headed in that direction.

She grumbled to herself the whole way to the car, knowing it was all her fault anyway for not paying enough attention to the listing. She had made the classic mistake of getting drawn in by a cheap pricetag on what was one of the few cabins still available for this weekend, and now it was coming back to bite her in the ass. And all the while she knew that Killian was probably eating this up, as everyone else would be, too, as soon as they all found out. Emma kicked her car tire as she waited for the trunk to open.

"Ow!" she said, wincing. That was a dumb idea, even in her snow boots, her toes still felt the sting.

"Need a hand, love?" She jumped, she hadn't even heard him come out there. Fighting the urge to groan yet again ( _Come on, Emma, time to be a big girl!_ ) she turned towards the owner of the offending voice.

"Sure. I have a few more things that need to go in the kitchen, as well as my toiletries and things," she said, fishing in the car.

"Hand me whatever's heaviest. I'm at your service," Killian said with a waggle of his dark eyebrows, his arms spread wide as he waited for her to hand him something, and this time she couldn't help but smile genuinely. He was such a dork.

"Oh, so _now_ you're going to be a gentleman?" she asked, grabbing the box of kitchen items and shoving it into his chest. His hand covered hers as she handed him the box, and she had to tug it free of his grasp as he smirked at her.

"I'm _always_ a gentleman, love," he answered with a wink, turning and walking towards the house. She couldn't help but stare after him as he walked away. _My, those jeans fit him well_ , she thought as she bit her lower lip, staring at his ass.

"I'm not your _love_ ," she called after him futilely, watching as his shoulders shook with laughter. It was an ongoing joke between them that apparently never got old, for him at least.

Dumping her stuff upstairs, she came down to find Killian crouched in front of the giant stone fireplace, and she made her way towards him. He was balling up pieces of newspaper that had been left next to the fireplace, tucking them under the stack of logs on the hearth. She watched his forearms flex as he worked, his skin tan where his shirt has been pushed up to expose it.

"You know how to do...that?" she asked, surprised.

He turned when he heard her voice, smiling confidently at her, and she couldn't help but glance down his shirt at all that chest hair, his henley unbuttoned just a tad more than what was considered normal. "What? Light a fire? Of course, Swan. I may not have been a boy scout, but I've managed to learn a few survival skills over the years."

She was impressed, Killian didn't strike her as the outdoorsy type, he just always seemed so much more cosmopolitan to her. Then again, they'd never been to the mountains together before, and he always did manage to astonish her.

"You shouldn't be that surprised, Swan. I know how to turn up the heat," he said gruffly, lighting a match, the flame dancing in his eyes. Something about the way he said it combined with the purposeful manner in which his hands moved made a shiver run up her spine. _Fuck._ She was in _so_ much trouble.

She rolled her eyes at him, desperate to lighten the mood. "Oh yes, Killian. You're _so_ hot, everybody knows it. Thank you for informing me."

He dropped his gaze to the logs as he held the flame under the newspaper and it began to darken the edges, the blaze spreading. When it appeared to be under way, he stood up, facing her.

"You've got it all wrong, Swan," he said, shaking his head. "It isn't about me being hot. It's about making sure one's partner is well taken care of," he said, softer now, as his eyes looked at her imploringly and his hand reached out - almost, but not quite touching her arm. They were standing on top of the bearskin rug, the fire crackling now, and her breath caught as she felt a strange sense of premonition, as if something momentous would take place, right in this very spot.

Caught in his gaze, she had to shake herself from her trance, suddenly desperate for some space between them. She snorted most inelegantly at him, using sarcasm to push him away. "That's, uh... _great_ Killian," she said with a teasing smile. "I'm sure your ' _partners'_ really appreciate that."

His face fell, and with a tired smile, he turned away, leaving her bereft of a clever comeback. Something tugged at the pit of her stomach, but she didn't want to stay and explore what it was. What she wanted was to get as far away from Killian Jones as possible.

Entering the kitchen, she saw that not only was everything unpacked, but Mary Margaret and David were already started on making dinner (they were having tacos) while Regina and Robin were busy making a pitcher of margaritas for everyone. Belle was setting the table and Will was putting out the chips and salsa.

"Wow! Look at you guys, so industrious, I like it." She smiled at the group, suddenly feeling useless. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Emma, you've had a rough week at work and you took care of planning our ski trip for us, why don't you have a drink and relax for a bit? We've got it covered," David instructed her. She happily accepted the margarita that Robin handed her and sat down at a barstool, dipping a chip into the salsa.

"Thanks! I'm just glad everyone could make it."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of talking and laughter, Emma trying to keep as much distance as she could between her and Killian. She'd managed to do it pretty well until they were at the card table after dinner playing Hearts. They both reached for another card at the same time and when their fingers touched, sending a bolt of electricity through her, she jerked her hand back quickly as if she'd been stung. Killian just looked embarrassed, scratching behind his ear which had turned pink at the tip. His discomfort made her embarrassed too, but she figured anything was better than encouraging him.

Later, everyone decided to go in the hot tub except Killian, and she was grateful for that, because she wasn't sure if she would be capable of not staring at the man in his swimwear. She stayed in the bubbling, hot water until she was alone at last, leaning her head back and sighing contentedly as she looked up at the twinkling stars in the inky night sky and her breath clouded in the air. Perhaps he'd already be asleep by the time she came inside.

"Mind if I join you, Swan?" _Shit._ What was _he_ doing here?

She panicked a little bit, sitting upright, as she noticed Killian walking out in a white bathrobe, tied at the waist. "I thought you didn't want to go in the hot tub."

Killian shrugged his shoulders, stopping in front of the hooks opposite the hot tub, where her towel was hanging. "People are allowed to change their minds now and again, are they not?"

"Oh, I suppose so," she mumbled. Emma sighed, watching carefully as he undid the ties of his robe, her whole body tense. _He had better be wearing something underneath that thing._

He grinned at her over his shoulder as he lowered the robe, inch by miserable inch. Her heart raced as she stood poised to jump from the hot tub, ready to flee at the site of his naked flesh. Naked flesh which she had absolutely _no_ intention of getting an eyeful, no matter how her traitorous body was responding to him.

Relief washed over her as she took in his black swim trunks, air whooshing out of her lungs. He climbed carefully into the hot tub, settling down opposite from her and running a hand through his hair as he groaned appreciatively. She didn't enjoy that guttural sound, nope, not one bit. It was bad enough that her nipples were hard from the cold night air, the last thing she needed was a man oozing liquid sex from every pore making noises like _that_. She crossed her arms over her chest angrily, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Killian, completely unaffected, sat back and looked her over, his toes brushing against her ankle in the small space and causing her to feel something like panic. With his hair wet, he looked impossibly attractive, his blue eyes bright in the darkness and his lips flushed and pink. A tremor of want rushed through her, but she was so riddled with fear and uncertainty that she immediately rejected it.

"So, Swan, how are things? I feel like we haven't properly spoken to one another in a long time."

Emma sighed, looking at him warily. "Look, Killian, I know what this is...this- you- you know, trying to bond with me." His brow furrowed as took in her pained annoyance. "So save your breath, I'm not in the mood." Not in the mood for another failed relationship, that's for sure. "Enjoy the hot tub, I'm going to bed."

Hurt and disappointment clouded his handsome features as she rose from the tub, climbing quickly out and wrapping her towel around herself. She tried not to feel guilty as she left him out there alone, but failed miserably, shivering from the transition out of the heat and into the cold air, the water coating her body chilling almost immediately. She found herself groaning in frustration as she made her way to the bathroom for a shower, a war waging within her mind as she considered her interaction with Killian. Everyone else had retired to bed already, and she sighed in relief when she found the bathroom empty.

She readied herself for bed as quickly as possible, hoping to avoid Killian altogether. They needed to be up early to go skiing anyway, so he should understand. They weren't even supposed to be sharing a bedroom, it's not like she owed him pleasant conversation or something.

She continued to grumble to herself all the way upstairs, putting her things away and getting her ski outfit ready for the morning. Pulling back the covers on her bed, she noticed surprisingly that there was only one thin blanket underneath the comforter. When she heard Killian turning off the lights downstairs and climbing the stairway, she jumped in bed, pulling the covers up around her and getting herself settled, her back to the entry of the loft. _Brrrr, it was cold._

She stilled as she heard him come in, barely resisting the urge to turn her head and see what he was wearing to sleep in. _Even breaths, pretend you're asleep,_ she told herself as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Goodnight, Swan," she heard him whisper as he switched the lamp off, but she didn't respond.

She lay there in the darkness, listening to his bed creak as he got settled and as she shivered she hoped he wouldn't be able to hear her moving. Socks were helping her toes to stay warm, but she was only wearing thin cotton pajama pants and a tank top. Why in the world hadn't she thought to bring a pair of flannel pajamas? Or fleece? Probably because she didn't own any, but still. She always cranked the heat all the way up in her apartment and slept under a down comforter, so those weren't a necessity.

"Oooooh," she heard herself saying as she shivered again. Was that a draft coming in from the window? Why had she thought it was a good idea to sleep closest to the damn thing again?

Rolling over, she tugged at her covers, tucking them in tight around her body and drawing her knees up almost to her chest. The bed coils complained noisily as she moved, and she knew if Killian wasn't already asleep he was most definitely lying there listening to her.

"You alright there, love?" she heard Killian whisper loudly.

"Fine. Just fine," she gruffed in his direction. Fluffing her pillow, she curled herself tightly into a ball and managed to gather a bit of warmth, exhaustion from a day of travel and a bit of alcohol weighing heavy in her bones. Soon, she drifted off into a restless sleep, snow falling in the darkness around the cabin and blanketing it like frosting.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here is the second/final part of the story! Hope you enjoy and Happy Sunday!

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Emma woke up suddenly and dramatically, the feeling of cold air climbing like a icy finger up her spine.

"Vuvuvuvvuuvvv," she shivered heavily, pulling the covers more tightly under her chin, which did almost nothing to alleviate the cold. Her toes were numb, so she began rubbing her legs together at the same time that she rubbed her hands against her arms, trying to create some friction.

"Swan?" she heard in the darkness. Oh, that's right. _He_ was still there.

"Wha-wha-wha-what?" she asked through chattering teeth.

She heard the coils of his bed shifting as he rose up and walked the short distance between their beds, then he was leaning over her, his hand on her shoulder touching her tentatively and spreading a tingling sensation all the way down her arm. She tried to make out his face in the darkness, but she couldn't see much beyond the flash of his white teeth when he spoke.

"Swan, you're absolutely frozen. Let me go check the thermostat, darling, make sure it's all the way up." The light on his phone glowed to life, as he picked it up and held it in front of him to guide his way downstairs.

Stubbornly, Emma stayed right where she was, waiting for Killian to save the day, as usual. The thermostat, why didn't she think of that? Someone must have turned it down before they went to bed.

A minute or more passed in pure agony, her body shivering uncontrollably while she waited for Killian to return and make a full report. When she saw the glow of his flashlight make its way into the loft, she tried to breath a sigh of relief, but was inhibited by her chattering teeth.

He sat down on his bed, holding the phone light towards the floor so he could see her face probably, without getting the light in her eyes.

"Do you want the bad news, or the _bad_ news?" he asked sardonically.

"Ha! Wha-wha-what does that mean?"

He sighed heavily. "I checked the thermostat and it's turned all the way up. The furnace seems to be running as far as I can tell, it's just bloody cold and this is an old house with old insulation probably. It doesn't help that up here in the loft, the only thing between us and the snow storm that's raging outside is the roof. The window seems to be single pane in here as well, even though they're double paned downstairs." He paused, but she didn't say anything, so he continued. "The other bad news is that I checked the linen closet for extra blankets, but there were none."

"Grrr-grrr-great!" she managed to get out.

"Look, Swan, you know I wouldn't suggest this under normal circumstances, but you're obviously freezing, so I think the best solution is for us to sleep together."

"What?" she bit out, angrily. "Who do you think you're kidding, Jones?"

"You know me, Swan, I'll be a perfect gentleman, and the offer was meant kindly. I seem to be a bit warmer than you, but even I am too cold to sleep. If we combine our body heat we'll be much warmer, you'll see it makes perfect sense." His voice was calm and rational, and she found that all the more irritating.

"Not on your life," she responded, stubborn as a mule and twice as prickly.

"Alright then, suit yourself," he said, raising his hands in surrender, the light causing her to squint as it flashed her in the eye. Then it was dark again, and she heard his bed squeak as he settled back under the covers. Immediately she was filled with regret and uncertainty. _He_ was probably going to sleep just fine, and she would be lying there shivering all night, _bastard._

"You know how to turn up the heat, right Jones?" she asked snarkily, her crankiness evident. "Oh, I bet you do. I bet you turn up the heat every Saturday night with a different lucky lady." _Oh my God, what was wrong with her? Did she just say that out loud?_

She heard him chuckle lightly. "Actually, no. It may surprise you to hear this, Swan, but I haven't been with a woman since Ariel."

"Oh." She swallowed thickly, feeling childish and stupid. "Then what was all that big talk about earlier?"

He sighed again, and she heard a small noise as if he was rubbing his hand over his beard. "Perhaps I was trying to impress you, Swan. Wouldn't be the first time, would it?"

She was surprised by his honesty, but unable to respond. Here she had rebuffed him yet again, and she was just rubbing it in his face. God, she was a bitch sometimes. She may not want to get involved with Killian, but he was still her friend, and he didn't deserve that.

"Sorry," she mumbled into the darkness, then she turned over on her bed and tried to shiver her way into sleep.

She stayed that way for some time, hoping that Killian at least would nod off, and then maybe she could creep out of bed and find her parka downstairs without getting flack for it. She sure as hell wasn't going to admit he was right. But as the cold air continued to seep in through the window, her shivering only became even more uncontrollable, and her bed began to make regular jangling noises, as the movement of her body shook the ancient bedsprings.

There was little to no warning before she heard Killian exclaim, "Bloody hell! You bloody insufferable, stubborn arse of a woman!"

The next thing she knew, he was flinging the covers off of her and scooping her up into his strong arms.

"Put me down!" she shrieked, too shocked to break free of his grasp.

He carried her to his bed and dumped her unceremoniously in it. Then he whipped the comforter off of her bed and climbed in next to her, pulling the covers over her and laying her comforter on top. Even though she tried to get up, he pushed her gently but firmly back down again and finally laid down beside her, settling his chest against her back. Wrapping his arms around her, he began stroking his hands up and down her arms, and if felt so darn good she forgot to complain for a moment. Tangling his legs with her own, he thrust his hips against her backside to get closer, and it was then that she was fully awakened, moved to protestation.

"Killian, I can't," she complained, moving as far away from him as she could on the tiny bed.

"Nonsense, you're freezing Swan, and I simply won't allow it." He gathered her in his arms, pulling her back against him and she sighed in resignation, knowing both that he was being exceedingly thoughtful and that she probably _would_ freeze to death if she didn't allow him to warm her up. His body was extremely warm, heat radiating off his skin through the thin material of his undershirt, and she thought it was especially appropriate that someone so hot should actually be that...hot. She huffed, trying to find a comfortable spot on the pillow, and Killian tucked his head on top of her shoulder, his breath warm against the side of her face.

When he began wiggling his head from side to side to find a comfortable spot, she giggled. "Stop...doing that," she breathed out between laughter.

"What?" he asked. "This?" He rubbed his scruff against her cheek and neck again and she burst into a fit of giggles.

"That...tickles!" she managed to get out, squirming beneath him. Finally, he pulled his head away, settling on the pillow behind her. She couldn't see him, but she could swear he was smiling, his breath coming in short pants as if in silent laughter.

"Speaking of tickling..." He began moving her hair around, tucking it up under her head. "I love your luscious locks, Swan, don't get me wrong. But not when they're tickling my nose."

She snorted at that, but helped to pull her hair away, fixing it under her shoulder. Still cold and shivering, she found herself wiggling back towards him, pressing into the heat of his body. As they lay there in companionable silence, she couldn't help but notice how well they fit together, her smaller body fitting perfectly into the curve of his larger one. Seeking his heat, she wiggled the round swell of her ass into his groin, and realized she could feel him against her - not quite hard, but not quite soft either - and she felt herself blushing profusely. It made her curious, though, too - was he really attracted to her _that way_? She wasn't sure. He flirted with her all the time, but she'd spent so much effort convincing herself they could never be together, she hadn't ever really considered it seriously.

Breathing in deeply, she could smell him all around her, spice and warmth mingling with his own personal musk. _God, he smelled amazing_. She'd never been this close to him before, and she had to resist the urge to turn her head and bury it in the crook of his neck, getting her fill of him. As it was, she was very eagerly nestling into him, trying to absorb as much of his body heat as possible.

There was something missing though, and if Emma was being honest with herself (which she wasn't very often), she had enjoyed the feel of his hands on her body. She could lie there wishing for him to touch her again, or she could make her desires known, as risky as that felt. Lying there in the darkness, she debated briefly before she made up her mind. Taking his hand where it was now resting awkwardly on the mattress next to her side, she placed his palm against her stomach, pressing it flat against her. "Your hand is warm," she told him, suddenly serious. He didn't say anything, only sighed and began moving his hand over her body, rubbing up and down her stomach and over her hip. As he dipped over the side of her hip bone, she gasped softly as his fingers found the small sliver of skin between her pants and her tank top, and she felt herself shiver for an entirely new reason.

The next pass of his hand had his fingers drawing dangerously close to the underside of her breast, and she stilled completely, holding her breath as she waited to see what he'd do next. She found herself strangely disappointed when he only paused momentarily but then moved his hand back down to a much safer spot along her waist and then stopped moving completely, a tired yawn escaping him.

"We should get some sleep," she heard him murmur.

"Alright," she responded, closing her eyes and trying to relax as her body finally began to feel warm again.

They both dozed off for a long while, snug and warm together in their little cocoon. Inevitably, however, they both began to shift - a twin bed really wasn't made for two people - and managed to wake each other up. Killian flipped onto his back, and before Emma could complain that he was taking up all the space, she felt him pull her gently but insistently toward him. Hesitantly, she laid her head down on his chest, fitting into the crook of his arm as he wrapped it around her and drew her even closer. Giving in completely, she tucked her leg in between his, careful not to knee him in the groin.

As she laid there, listening to his heart beat steady and strong, anxiety filled her tired mind. Friends do this sort of thing, right? Friends could comfort one another in their time of need. Or was she completely kidding herself? Sighing, she allowed herself to consider the possibility, thought about how well she and Killian got along when she wasn't busy pushing him away. They were a good team, actually, and he made her laugh when she let him. God knows she was attracted to the man, the urge to touch him all over completely overwhelming now that she found herself pressed up against him with only their thin pajamas to separate them. Yes, she knew he'd been interested in dating her way back when, but so many things had changed since then, and she'd been such a jerk to him most of the time. Suddenly, she was desperate to know, even if it meant certain rejection. At least then maybe she could get some sleep.

"Killian?" she whispered into the dark.

"Yes, Swan?"

"I'm kind of a jerk, aren't I?" She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

She could _feel_ him thinking in the dark before he responded. "Actually, I quite fancy you from time to time, when you aren't yelling at me."

Emma smiled, nestling her head against him and placing her hand over his heart. Soon, she was fast asleep.

* * *

When she woke up in the morning, she had completely forgotten where she was or who she was with, her sleep-addled brain struggling to catch up. She only knew that the body pillow she was snuggling into was _extremely_ comfortable.

Running her hand down it, she found something long and rigid, and she was momentarily confused as she explored it with her fingers, trying to figure out what it was.

"Well, good morning to you, too, love," she heard Killian say amusedly, his voice rough from sleep. _Shit._

Emma opened her eyes, jerking her hand away from Killian's morning wood and jumping from the bed in one quick, uncoordinated movement that almost left her on her ass before she caught herself and stood up. He only chuckled at her obvious embarrassment, putting his hands behind his head as he arched an eyebrow at her.

Her eyes were wide in horror as she realized what she'd done, her cheeks flaming wildly.

"I'll just-" She pointed towards the stairs. "Bathroom." Then she fled from the room, running down the stairs as she cursed under her breath, praying that the bathroom was free.

Once she had brushed her teeth and splashed some cool water on her face, she looked at herself in the mirror and was not surprised to see dark circles under her eyes. Sharing a bed with Killian had helped to take the edge off the cold, but she had only slept in bits and pieces, and was still completely exhausted.

She stayed downstairs, unwilling to face Killian after their little incident, and still a bit embarrassed about the entire sleeping situation. Finding her coat where it was hanging on a hook, she wrapped it around herself, uncaring that she probably looked ridiculous.

Since everyone had been so nice about making dinner last night and she was in need of something to keep herself busy, she started on breakfast, getting out the pancake mix and starting the coffee.

Killian came in the kitchen, still wearing his plaid pajama pants, though he had thrown a henley on over his t-shirt. He scratched behind his ear as he smiled at her softly.

"Sorry about that," she said immediately, pretending to be busy stirring the pancake batter as her cheeks burned.

"'Salright, love. There are worse ways to be woken up in the morning," he said, grinning at her. "Need a hand?"

"Sure, why don't you get the bacon started?"

They worked in silence for awhile and she was grateful when everyone else started to roll into the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively at the aroma of bacon and coffee wafting in the air. By the time breakfast was over with and she had helped clean up, a plan began to form in her mind. She had come up here with everyone to go skiing, but the voice of reason told her it was a bad idea. Tiredness leads to poor decision making, let alone muscle control, and after her bad night's rest she just wasn't sure skiing was such a good idea anymore.

Not that everyone agreed with her, unwilling as they were to leave her alone. After much protestation, she finally put her foot down. "Look, guys, I'll be fine, I swear. I'll put a fire on and read one of the books I brought with me. I think what I need right now is just some time to rest. I'll go skiing with everyone tomorrow."

Killian, in particular, looked back at her warily as they made their way out the front door, and she tried to hide the nerves she now felt in his presence. Something had shifted between them last night, she knew that now, and she was hoping not only to rest but maybe to think about it a little more today in peace and quiet.

Of course, once everyone had left and she heard the sound of the tires crunching over the snow, she began to regret her decision. It was awfully quiet in the house and they would be gone for a long time. She missed them already, in particular one handsome, charming Brit that she couldn't seem to get out of her mind.

She had just settled back against the couch when she heard the front door opening. Worried, she got up from her seat and hurried to the door just in time to see Killian closing it behind him.

"What are you doing? I thought you were going skiing?" She tried to hide the bit of childish excitement in her voice but failed, most certainly, as a wide grin split her face.

He merely shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows, rolling his lower lip out. "Like I said, Swan, a person is allowed to change his mind now and again."

He took several steps towards her, and she found herself drawing closer to him as well, still uncertain but trying to find her way.

"Besides, I didn't want you to have to spend the day all alone," he added, his voice softer as he looked on her tenderly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

She could only smile at him, butterflies flitting through her stomach. "Admit it, Killian, you can't get enough of me, can you! Even after we spent the whole night together," she teased.

He smiled back at her, crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. "Well, you are quite charming," he said as he looked her over, his gaze lingering on her lips. "Besides, you need someone to get your fire started," he said suggestively, biting his lower lip.

Emma stepped closer to him, until she could smell the scent of his aftershave, fresh and clean. She felt a bit silly standing there in her pajamas and down coat, but the way he was looking at her seemed to convey he didn't mind.

"Killian?" she asked, her eyes darting to his lips as he moistened them with his tongue.

"Yes, Swan?" he asked breathlessly, hope evident in his voice. And it was that hope that spurred her forward, that made the decision easier than she would have ever thought possible.

"I don't want us to be friends anymore," she said, watching as his eyes went from shock and hurt back to affirming realization.

"Why's that?" he asked with a tilt of his head, his hand cupping her jaw as he ran his thumb gently across her cheek and she silently cursed him for making her spell it out for him.

Swallowing thickly, she looked straight into his eyes as she gently nudged his nose with her own. "A person is allowed to change her mind now and then, right?"

That was all she needed to say, and then he was kissing her, his lips a soft press against hers as she stood on her tippy toes and arched her back up to meet him. It was weird, at first, kissing this man whom she had known for so long, whom she had never allowed herself to acknowledge was so obviously compatible with her. But as his arms wrapped around her and he angled his head to deepen the kiss, she groaned in annoyance at herself for waiting so long to experience such sheer perfection.

It was like they were made to kiss each other, their movements seamless as they gave and received equally, the feeling shifting from affection to passion in the space of a heartbeat. She knew it would be good, knew somehow it would feel right, but nothing prepared her for the wealth of emotion they had both apparently been holding back. She wrapped her arms around his neck, digging her fingers into his hair and smiling when she heard him groan in appreciation. He cradled her head close, nipping at her lower lip until she opened for him, her toes curling as his tongue slid past hers. They both moaned in unison and it was like a revelation - the effect their bodies could have on one another.

When they finally pulled back and opened their eyes, they blinked them open slowly as if they were afraid it had all been a dream, smiling at one another shyly and holding each other close.

"I've been wanting to do that for a very long time," Killian finally said softly, nuzzling her nose with his own.

"Me too," Emma said, wrinkling her nose at him. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

Killian started rocking them back and forth, moving them forward into the living room. "Well, then," he said with a devilish smirk. "I think we've got some lost time to make up for."

Emma smiled and bit her lip as she sank down slowly onto the couch and lay back, watching as Killian crouched over her until he was hovering above her from head to foot. He stayed that way for a moment, just staring at her in disbelief until he faintly whispered in awe, "You were worth waiting for, Swan."

She grabbed him behind the neck. "Shut up and kiss me, would you already?"

With a light growl, he sank down on top of her, their bodies fitting together like a puzzle as his lips found hers and she reveled in the skill of Killian Jones' mouth. God, he was an amazing kisser. She wanted to devour him whole, to taste every last inch of his skin and touch every burning inch too. His hands found their way inside her parka, and this time when he smoothed his palm up her torso, he found her breast and squeezed it lightly, the brush of his thumb over her nipple causing her to roll her hips against his instinctively. She pushed his jacket off over his shoulders, tossing his scarf to the ground and digging her hands inside his henley, unbuttoned as usual.

He began rocking into her, and she was impressed by the evidence of his desire for her, making her _want_ with a fervor she hadn't experienced in a very long time - perhaps ever. They stayed that way for a long time, tasting and exploring each other as if everything was new, their lips growing puffy and swollen.

Finally Killian lifted himself up, smiling down at her as he took in her utterly wrecked appearance. She smiled at his messy hair and pink cheeks, making him appear boyish and sexy as hell.

"I made you a promise, Swan, and I'm afraid I'm not coming through on it."

"Oh yeah, which promise is that?" she asked, twirling a bit of his silky hair in her fingers.

"Why, to get your fire started, of course," he teased, lifting off the couch and moving towards the fireplace, his hand adjusting the front of his pants that were bulging at the seam.

Emma sat up, tugging her clothes back into place, taking her jacket off and tossing it on a chair since she was plenty warm. "Pretty sure you already did that," she joked. Standing up, she walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, taking a sip and then handing it to Killian as he crouched down in front of the fireplace, working on the fire.

"Thanks, love," he said gratefully. She started to say, "I'm not your-" before she stopped herself silently, biting her lip as she realized how much things had changed since yesterday. Watching him expertly get the logs aflame once again, she sighed wistfully as she tried not to think of anything much except how happy she was in that moment.

When he was done, he took the glass of water from her and placed it on the mantel purposefully. They were standing in front of the fire on the bearskin rug, and she remembered their conversation in that exact spot the previous day, filling her with a sense of amazement.

"Emma," he said earnestly, sliding his hands around her waist. "I have a secret to tell you."

"Hmm?" she asked, running her hands up his strong arms to his wide shoulders.

"Do you know what I was thinking about yesterday when I lit the fire here?" He stared deeply into her eyes, and she watched in wonder as heat bloomed in his pupils.

"What's that?" she purred.

"I was imagining making love to you right here in front of the fireplace," he said, and Emma suddenly felt warm all over, desire flaring to life as her breath caught in her throat. His words had an effect on her that was both exhilarating and completely brand new, her blood thrumming in her veins. She had never felt so _wanted_ before, and it made her feel unbelievably aroused. She wanted it, too, wanted _him_ , and didn't want to waste another second in denial.

A moan escaped her throat as she reached up to kiss him, and she had never been so sure about anything as she was about this moment in time. It felt right, like all the cards had finally fallen into place, and the long and twisty road they had taken to get there had been worth every heartbreak.

He took his time with her, like he didn't want to rush a single moment, keeping his eyes on her as he slowly lifted her tank top over her head and tossed it to the ground. His eyes were wide with wonder as he took her in, his fingertips grazing over her collarbone with reverence. He was so mesmerized with her, she took the opportunity to wiggle her hips and push her pants to the ground as well, glad that she was wearing a decent pair of panties.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said earnestly, and she glowed, lit up from within.

Suddenly, she wanted to see him too - all of him - so she reached for his shirt, tugging at it restlessly while he chuckled at her. "Since you're so anxious, let me help you," he said, lifting the henley over his head and taking his undershirt with it.

She stroked her fingers through his chest hair, watching his adam's apple bob up and down as she followed the trail of hair down, down, down until it reached his belt buckle. He jerked when her fingers tucked inside his pants as she worked on opening his belt, but otherwise he just stood there watching her, his hands resting lightly on her hips. Once she had his belt open, she unbuttoned his jeans and lowered his zipper slowly, giving him a come-hither smirk as she finally eyed her prize, covered tightly in boxer briefs. Working the jeans down over his hips, she caressed his tight little ass as she pushed them down to the floor and he stepped out of them. She was pleased to find that all of his cocky attitude was well deserved - _very_ well deserved in fact - and she licked her lips appreciatively.

"You're amazing," she said, wishing she were as eloquent as he was as she smoothed her hands all over his body, across his well-defined chest and down the flat plane of his abs.

"You're bloody amazing, Emma," he said, kissing her neck and making her squirm just slightly from the tickle of his beard until he bit her lightly and soothed it with his tongue, and suddenly her mind went blank as all of her focus was on that wonderful mouth of his and the amazing things it could do.

Somehow, they ended up on their knees, facing one another, and she clutched him tightly as he explored her neck and chest, finally closing his wet mouth over her nipple and sucking it lightly, making her gasp and moan with pleasure. Laying her back gently, he continued his exploration, placing open-mouthed kissed all the way down her stomach. He nosed and kissed around the top of her panty line and she squirmed beneath him, overwhelmed at the sensations. An hour of foreplay had her more than ready for him, and she was _very_ anxious to move things along.

"Killian," she whined. "We've waited long enough. It's time." He looked up at her, then came to lay over her, face to face.

Finding his cock, she stroked at it firmly, loving the solid feel of it in her hand and the way he closed his eyes in surrender.

"Birth control?" he asked, when he could muster the strength.

"Taken care of, as long as you're OK?"

"Aye," he said, nodding at her, and then he traveled down her body, hooking her panties in his teeth and dragging them down her legs. She nearly jumped when his teeth skimmed over her mound, and he smiled smugly, kissing up her leg and behind her knee after he'd thrown her underwear over his shoulder. Her breathing was getting erratic and she felt a burning ache in her core, more desperate for him than she'd ever been for anyone. It didn't help when he raised his wicked eyebrow over those too-blue eyes, giving her that devilish grin that made her want to do very, very naughty things to him.

His kisses came dangerously close to the apex of her thighs when she finally resorted to begging shamelessly, because she could wait no longer. He was making a wanton mess out of her, but it was all worth it when he discarded of his boxer briefs and positioned himself between her legs.

She kissed him hungrily, grasping at his neck and shoulders, but her mouth fell open on a gasp when he buried himself deep inside her. All she could think about besides the intense ecstasy she was currently experiencing was that she had been a fool to waste so much time. Putting all of her feelings into her kiss, she tilting her hips up to meet him for every thrust, pulling him closer by the hips, wanting it to go on forever while desperate for release at the same time.

When her cries became more wild and intense, he pulled back, watching her intently as she fell apart, the effect on him obvious as he followed closely behind her. He bent down to kiss her languidly as he stilled inside of her, and she stroked her fingers down his back, now covered in sweat.

"I think I'm warm now," she said when they broke apart, Killian rolling onto his side carefully.

He chuckled at that, and she loved seeing him smile, knowing it was for her. She wanted to capture the memory and hold onto it forever.

"I told you I know how to make sure my partner is taken care of," he reminded her and she hummed amusedly.

After cleaning up, they had a picnic lunch right there on that rug, partially clothed, sharing sweet kisses in between mouthfuls of cheese and crackers, wine, and grapes.

All it took was a particularly cheeky raise of the eyebrow from Emma as she ran her toes over his calf, and then their clothes were quickly discarded as she rode him into oblivion once again, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he cried out her name.

She settled into his side, the same way she had very early in the morning, with the fire on her naked back to keep her warm and fell promptly asleep, tired and sated. Luckily, they woke up just in time when the skiers arrived back at the house, their tires crunching over the snow in the driveway. Giggling, they grabbed their clothes and ran upstairs like naughty teenagers, walking down later fully clothed and sharing sleepy yawns, as if they had both been taking naps.

Of course, it didn't take long for the rest of the gang to catch on to their change in relationship status, Regina taking one discerning look at their glowing skin and relaxed expressions and declaring with her hand on her hip and a dramatic eye roll, "Oh, thank God, you two finally had sex and got it over with. I thought I was going to have to spend the whole weekend watching you moon over each other," leading to much shock and awe amongst the group. Emma tried to come up with a plausible response, but was left sputtering, and Killian was no help, only ducking his head bashfully and scratching nervously behind his ear.

In the end, Emma didn't mind, not really, not when it meant she could wrap her arm around Killian in front of everyone like she really wanted to, like perhaps she was always meant to do. All it took was a little cold weather to shake some sense into her.

(That's not to say it wasn't completely mortifying when David later found her panties behind a chair in the living room, holding them up suspiciously as he queried the group.)

(Killian claimed them as his prize.)


End file.
